Midnight Kisses| ✓

Chapter 9

I take notes which is the only thing I am good at without being generally lousy

"All the laws of motions, equations in straight line, projectile we know them. But to derive them integral is really important." Everything is related, physics, mathematics, biology. And if the subjects are related, so are we, literally living the phenomenon in our everyday life as we read in the Science books. There's the dispersion right there as the ray of sun, hits the glass facing east and creates a rainbow on it. There's a thin string joining all of us, as the God plays the ultimate puppet show. He's a really creative reality show executive cum scriptwriter. If my life didn't suck so much I might even applaud him.

" And also if you are taking the AP exam Math level II." At this information some of the people sit up with their back straight and stat scribbling on their notebooks and I find myself wondering what will happen to me after one and a half years.

Will I be going off to college? I can't imagine myself there. My parents waving to me as I take small footsteps into the outside world, living in a dorm, living with stranger, sharing a room, the prospect is too much for me.

No college for me. Definitely no college for me. But when Mr Hudgens asks for the homework I turn it in

I am always late for Chemistry. I have to practically run all the way from the end of the right wing, where my World History class is to the very end of the Left wing where the chemistry classroom. It's widest room in the whole school with about three large glass windows floor to length in the north and the lab arranged neatly at the back of the class where we sit and study theory before moving on to practicals.

Mondays are practical days. I am out of breath when I do reach class, hitching my heavy backpack over my shoulder. On second thought I should have dumped half my books at the locker.

"Come in. Come in Covalho." Our chemistry teacher Miss Haines always calls us by our last name. She has always this far away expression on her face. I think she might be on drugs, she looks high, or atleast the mental picture I have created of high people.

She's not much older than us being a student in her final year at Wesley. I quickly shuffle into the room and try to walk to my regular seat, with as much dignity as I can gather. My seat is at the far corner and it seems miles away from me.

I always sit in the back of class irrespective of the subject. That way the other students can't stare at me they way they do when I am making my way between the rows. One girl whispers to another as I pass. 'She looks like a ghost.'

I feel like a ghost and as if the stares and the whispers aren't enough, my seat is occupied. By Trisha Beckley of all people.

Personally I would do all I can to avoid Trisha or people like her. But I can't bear the thought of walking back to the front of the class, on the second row and sit down next to Brad Hampton. "That's my seat," I say, almost plead to her. She looks up at me and her perfect mascara is not perfect anymore.

For a second I feel a wave of sympathy for her but then I push it aside. The students at Northfield are faceless to me and should remain that way. If I can make myself believe that it is just a single person who torments me with the stares and whispers, it makes my life easier.

"You can take my seat," she says. Her voice is not harsh. It's usually high pitched like a trumpet letting out a wail but now it's almost as quiet as the ocean.

"No. That's my seat. And I am asking you to leave." She stares at me for a beat, her mouth opening and closing. I think she is getting ready to curse me but instead she says. "I can't sit with him." She points at Brad.

"That's not my problem," I say coldly.

"Is there any problem girls?" Miss Haines floats down the room to us. She is wearing this really weird coloured beads on her neck, like a voodoo necklace and her long sleeve dress shirt a bigger than her and hanging out above her hip like she has lost a lot of weight recently